The True Dark Lord
by Don'tCallMeFern
Summary: What if Voldemort wasn't the true Dark Lord? What if it was his best, deranged death eater? Mild AU, better summary inside!


**Hello everyone! This is my first Harry Potter fanfiction, so don't curse me if I didn't get them right! The story is focused around (in my opinion) the best character, Bellatrix Lestrange. The basics of the story is as followed: Voldemort is not the real dark lord. Bellatrix is the true Dark Lord. She organised to have Tom Riddle pretend to be the Dark Lord, in order to draw the attention away from herself. It is kinda confusing, but it started as a dream, and ****_voila! I_****t may be continued, but I'm not completely sure. Let me know what you think, and I don't own any of the characters, because if I did, Bellatrix and the death eaters would have won the war :)**

The resounding sound of footsteps echoed through Malfoy Manor, bouncing off the corridors before disappearing into the howling night. Bellatrix Lestrange quickly cleared the empty corridor, bursting through the oak door without so much as a knock.

"Tom." She barked, making the occupant of the room jump in shock, and perhaps in fear. Bella gave a small cackle of joy, an evil smirk apparent on her grim features.

"Yes, my Queen?" The man turned, showing his darkened features to the women. The man of whom was taking residence in the empty room was none other than Tom Riddle, better known as Lord Voldermort.

"I need you to find out who broke into my vault." The deranged woman started, before pulling out her wand and directing it at his neck. " it wasn't you now, was it? Answer me!" Bella snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously, wand remaining unwavering in her hand. "ANSWER ME!"she screamed in his face, causing the man to cower back in fear.

"N-no my Queen. I wouldn't dare take anything from you." Tom answered, face full of fear at the woman standing in front of him.

"Very well then." Bellatrix removed her wand, letting out a shattering cackle before turning on her heels and exiting the room.

The next time Tom found Bella, she was lent over the dead body of a healer. She was gathering the whisper remains of the soul into a glass vial, preparing to make another horcrux. Tom made his way besides the body and glanced up at the witch's face, a cynicle grin appearing as she collected the last of the soul. Once the soul was confined in the vial, Tom spoke up.

" What will this be, number 6?" He inquired, as Bella stored the vial, to be transferred at a later date.

"7." She growled, brushing a few black curls from her face before turning to the man behind her. "What do you need?"

Tom took a breath before looking his Queen in the eye. "Harry Potter will be at Diagon Ally tomorrow night. I believe it is something to do with luring us out." As he spoke, a small laugh emerged from Bella, before turning into a piercing cackle, echoing around the room before escaping out of the room.

"Very well. Tonight we attack. Remember, they still believe you are the one with the power. Keep it that way unless I say." Bella's face hardened, eyes boring into Tom's soul, making him shiver.

"Yes, my queen. I will go inform the others." Tom left her alone, knowing that if he didn't, he would feel his queen's wrath. And no one wanted to be on the bad side of Bellatrix. No one.

Bellatrix sat alone in her room, transferring her walnut wand from one hand to another as she thought. _It was an interesting feeling, knowing that you were the most powerful witch in the wizard world, yet nobody knew. Everyone still thought that pathetic half-blood Riddle was the essence of darkness, when really, she was the one doing all the work. In reality, it was a game of power, and she loves to win. _Bella allowed a smirk to grace her features, before standing up and gathering her wand, making her way to the dungeons. She slid down the spiral staircase, emitting a small laugh of glee before dusting off her black, flowing dress. Entering the dreary room, Bella allowed her self to laugh, before a deranged look coated her face. She started firing curses at everything and nothing laughing in glee as sparks shot of stone walls, erupting into a shower of colour. As if the coloured sparks where some type of hypnotic spell, Bella increased her speed and power, causing the room to explode in a violent flame of dark magic. Bella then shifted focus, focusing her mind on non-verbal curses. She began to spin in a spiral, allowing the sparks of white hot to circle the room, effectively destroying what was left in the stone room, minus the walls themselves. Bellatrix admired her skilled work, glancing around the room in pleasure. Taking the stairs two at a time, Bella bounded up the staircase, feeling the power run through her veins, soaking into her blood. She reached the top of the staircase, remnants of soot filtering off her dress and onto the wood varnished floor.

Bella sat at the head of the table, allowing the cool liquid to flow down her throat and settle in the pit of her stomach. Placing the glass of crimson wine down, she glanced over the occupants of the table. She was in her element, surrounded by people who worshipped _her_, while others feared _him_. Some Death eaters were talking in small groups, discussing the coming events, while others avoided contact, looking almost embarrassed to be partaking in the erroneous form of magic. Bella cleared her throat, as silence entered the room, covering the room with a thick blanket of quiet. She let the silence build for a few seconds, before breaking the suspense.

" we have all heard the plans for Potter's gang, so we will attack tomorrow's night. Remember to refer to Tom as your master, and I shall do the same. But remember, the boy is mine." Bella spat, glaring at the death eaters, of whom which turned away, uncomfortable, or averted their gaze. Bella let out a malicious smirk, as her sheer power caused people to cower in fear with just one glare. She downed the rest of her wine, before removing herself from the table and making her way upstairs to the confinement of her room. Entering her ensuite bathroom, she ran a brush through her erratic curls and glanced in the mirror. She stared into the mirror, remembering what life would be like if she had chosen to fight for the good. '_Boring.' _She thought bitterly, tearing her eyes away from the mirror and returning into the room. She replaced her dress with a simple black nightgown and sunk into her sheets, unruly black curls spread manically over her mound of pillows. As she closed her eyes, she whispered to no one and everyone: '_Let the games begin.'_

**Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think, I promise not to Crucio you! *evil cackle***


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